Plus One Roommate [A Scisaac Fanfiction]

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Admittedly, Isaac was more than grateful Scott had invited him into bed with him for obvious reasons such as: it was Scott's bed, Scott was in it, Scott was a foot away from him and Scott was, for good reason, inhumanly warm. Isaac was too enamoured by the boy beside him to notice he'd been speaking. Isaac shook his head.

"Huh?" He blurted.

Scott laughed. "I was just asking if you were comfortable. Is everything alright? You seem out of it." He replied, ending with a curious expression.

Isaac couldn't tell if he'd meant his staring or his emotional state. Either or, both were subjects he'd rather avoid a conversation about. He grinned and shrugged off the question.

"I'm fine, it's just been a long day." He answered.

Though he was dodging the question, he wasn't lying. Today really had exhausted him, again for obvious reasons, and he wanted a good night's rest more than anything right now.

Scott made and "oh yeah" face as though the events of the night had completely slipped his mind.

"Right, of course. I don't even-" He sighed.

Isaac could see the darker boy mentally disciplining himself. He was sympathetic to a fault and damn if it wasn't charming.

"Well, I'm right here if you need me." Scott managed a small, nervous smile before pulling the comforter closer to his chin and lying on his side so his back was to Isaac. "Goodnight." He yawned.

Isaac was asleep before he could say it back.

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Isaac stood before Derek, a combination of wind and rain pounding against the windows of the Alpha's loft and, despite it's deafening volume, it still couldn't have drowned out his Alpha's voice.

"You have to go." He said, his tone firm.

Isaac's heart sank with dread. His mind raced, trying desperately to recall any instance where he'd crossed Derek, something he'd done wrong.

"Was it something I did?" His voice was higher than usual, shaky and pathetic enough to be that of a child's.

Before he could take a step further or open his mouth to resolve whatever problem he surely had to have caused, Derek was howling at him and a glass flew towards his head.

"Get up." Derek ordered, but the voice was different: older, gentler and it terrified him more than Derek ever could have hoped to.

It wasn't Derek and he was no longer on the loft. He looked up, hands violently shaking, every fiber of his being fighting him, begging to stay cowering but still he looked and it was his father who looked back. The loft had transformed into the dining room of his old house and his father was now crossing towards him, prompting Isaac to scramble clumsily and hurriedly to his feet. He gunned for the door, his bike was right on the lawn, he could get away, his father couldn't keep up. But just as his finger tips brushed the handle of the front door, he was snatched back roughly by the collar. He choked as his collar yanked against his throat, though only momentarily before his back hit the dining room floor and his lungs pled for air.

He couldn't breathe, let alone scream as Derek dragged him by his hair in a path he knew all too wel. His father was gone now. He tried to shift, defend himself, but it wouldn't come; he was defenseless, powerless and scared. He pulled and clawed at the hand clutched in a fist around his curly mop of hair, desperate to escape a fate he deemed worse than death a million times over.

Once they'd reached the basement door, he tried his best to hold onto the door frame but Derek had none of it, continuing his brisk pace and Isaac's grip fell immediately. He began screaming, pleading as head grew increasingly sore, hitting every step they descended.

"TELL ME WHAT I DID!" He hollered desperately.

He could no longer see anything through the non-stop tears that dampened his face.

"PLEASE! JUST TELL ME WHAT I DID, I CAN FIX IT, DEREK, PLEASE! LET ME FIX IT!" He howled between sobs to no avail.

Derek showed no sign he could even hear him at all. Between the series of cascading tears, he got a glimpse of the freezer in the corner of the basement and screamed bloody murder. His body wouldn't stop shaking and his voice was raw from wailing but he'd sooner die before he stopped.

"I WON'T DO IT AGAIN! I PROMISE! I PROMISE! I PROMISE I WON'T! I'LL BE GOOD, I'LL DO EVERYTHING YOU SAY, JUST DON'T PUT ME BACK! I'LL BE GOOD, OKAY?!" He wouldn't stop shouting, begging. He couldn't go back.

His sobs never quieted, even as he was tossed into the freezer without so much as a laboured breath from Derek. He looked  up from the bottom of the freezer and his father stood beside Derek now.

"Don't do this. I'll be be good, okay? I promise, I'll be good. I'll be good." He put on an unconvincing smile and wiped his eyes, nodding.

"I'll be good." He repeated.

But his father's hands had already begun closing the lid and when it finally shut he quieted his cries. This was the quiet before the storm, his moment of truth. The part where he'd always hope his father would open the freezer back up and say 'just kidding!' and apologize for scaring him and they'd hug and they'd go back to whatever they'd been doing before. But the storm always came, just as terrible as the last and the one before. His hopeful silence was met with the click of a lock over the rattle of chains, footsteps up the basement steps and then the words that sentenced him, indefinitely, to his personal hell.

"I'll let you out when you've learned your lesson."

Then the door shut.

That's when the real screaming started.
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"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY, COME BACK! I'LL BE GOOD, OKAY?! I'LL BE GOOD, PLEASE COME BACK!" Isaac screamed at the top of his lungs.

Isaac didn't know he was dreaming, nor did he know he'd shifted to protect himself from a non-existent threat. He was also unaware that he was clawing away at a terrified, yet more deeply concerned Scott McCall.

And Scott, unfortunately, had no idea how to handle night terrors.